The Woes of a Troubled Witch
by browneyedbelle93
Summary: Hermione's life has always been a little less than perfect, but almost always perfect until a little someone pops into her life. What is she to do?
1. Prologue

Prologue:

I was born on September 19th at a small hospital in Britain, a little to the North of Oxford. My parents are as follows: Eleanor, my mother, and Henry, my father. I suppose I have my mother's brown, but bushy hair and eyes, and my father's pointed features, but overall, I thought myself attractive in a plain manner, but never the less, attractive. My parents were both highly respected figures in society – dentists, and I loved them both dearly. They married at the extremely young age of 19 because my mother was pregnant with me and they vowed never to have children again, but I just thought it was because I was a nuisance when I was younger or that they fell out of love with one another if that was even possible. Why they are still together, I know not of.

I grew up in a small little red brick flat with green ivy creeping up the sides and a limestone walkway leading to the forest green door with an amiable brass handle. My home had five windows on the front; one on both sides of the door, two on the second floor – directly above the ones below, and a small octagonal shaped window about five meters above the door. On the backside of the flat, there were four windows that matched the front ones. They were arranged in a manner as to form a square. Each window had shutters to match the door with a small flower box filled with flowers of all kinds underneath. The house was surrounded by a freshly clipped lawn and pink and red rose bushes.

Inside my house, one would be greeted by a decent and useful sized parlor decorated with great care as to keep the Victorian Era look. The walls were papered in a cream color background and decorated with a red-burgundy colored print in vertical stripes. The circular dark stained mahogany table was placed directly in the center of the area and a large porcelain vase sat in the middle filled with flowers, matching the walls. A large mirror with a gold ornamental frame hung on the North wall next to the shoe closet. A chaise was next to the stairway on the West side of the room.

On the East side of the parlor, a large doorway opened into a sitting room. The walls were themed in a washed-out navy blue color to match the fireplace that was hardly used. Above the mantle, a large picture of my parents and me was suspended in a plain, but elegant black frame. On both sides of the fireplace there were built in bookcases and each was filled to the ceiling. A black leather couch was placed in front of the window - this couch was my mother's favorite. Across from the couch, a brown sitting chair was angled towards the fireplace and flat screen television. Everything in this room seemed to flow; from the Oriental rug on the floor to the black piano near the doorway, it was my second favorite room in the house.

If you continued past the mirror, you would walk past the bathroom and into the kitchen. The kitchen had gorgeous cherry cabinetry, granite countertops and was smothered in stain-less steel appliances and the sink. My mother only wanted the tops brands so that was what we had. Across from the kitchen was the dinning room. It had high-backed chairs with intricate carvings in the wood with a matching table and cabinet which held Mum's best china. A crystal chandelier dangled over the table. The walls were adorned in a deep purple and gold to match the china. Long shocking gold curtains draped the large window and fell to the floor. Of the entire house, this was definitely the most elegant and the best place to seek solitude.

As everything seems to lead to the parlor, on the West side of the parlor, a staircase leading up was located. It was an elegant staircase made of pure and solid maple and stained to match the table in the center. It was worn with age, but just as charming as it would have been if it were 1 year old. A rug ran up the middle of the winding stairs and run up to the hallway above. If you ascended the stairs, directly to your right would be a long hallway. If you continued down that hallway and turned right again at the nearest door, my room would be there. My room was painted a sharp shade of lilac and a classic iron bed rested against the wall. My furniture matched everything in my room and it was my favorite place. My computer sat in a corner on my white desk and a large bookcase was placed near it. My closet was organized as was the rest of my room and house.

It was here, in the described setting above, where I lived for the first 11 years of my life and where my future beheld.

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**Author's Note:** I want to thanks my Beta: LadyPeaceGoldenHeart for 'beta-ing' my story so far. Reviews are welcome! I will try to respond to all of them, but as of now, I am currently grounded and am giving up sleep to write this story.

Best,

Rachel


	2. Chapter 1 New Beginings

Chapter 1:

A young lady, around the age of 21, sauntered through the long corridor of the Ministry of Magic main entrance. It had been 4 years after the war and all was well in the wizarding world, well almost all. There were of course the occasional break outs of mayhem or dreadful co-workers, but other than that, life was quite normal. Her name was Hermione Granger and she was quite the witch.

Hermione Granger was not a witch to meddle with; she was the best friend of the 'Chosen One' and the head of the Department of Law Enforcement. She was gentle as a kitten, but as tough as nails when push came to shove. One definitely did not want to get on her bad side or even attempt to express interest in her without any fears of being hacked into small pieces or hexed into oblivion. There was no slacking off with Hermione around and most everyone knew it. She was hardworking and persistent and her persistence paid off in the end.

She was very pretty in a peculiar manner: long auburn hair that framed her face and accented her sharp features; warm brown eyes and a perfect height of 5'6". She had most definitely grown from her once gawky stage at 11 and filled out quite nicely in the eyes of her colleagues. She was one-of-a-kind; witty, confident, clever, charming. There was nothing in her to dislike.

Continuing down the corridor, her black dragon hide stilettos echoed against the black marble floor, into the lift. She exited at the Department of Law Enforcement; her business robes swished with her every move. The cut of the robe wasn't helping to prevent the several male eyes that followed her as she continued to her office.

"Ms. Granger," said a small raven haired witch who appeared suddenly at her side, "You have a meeting with Kingsley Shacklebolt about a new Head Auror at 10:00 am; I believe this is an introduction to the new Head. Um… 15 new cases have arrived for your review and the minister has scheduled an appointment for today at 2:00 pm so that you can discuss new regulations. Also, at 7 tonight, you have a dinner party with the Potter's at Rosebud," she said as she skipped to keep up with Hermione's long stride. She checked her calendar again, double checking to make sure she didn't forget anything.

"Thank you Miranda," she said and smoothly opened the door to her office. It closed with a loud snap. With a noisy sigh, she sat in her swivel chair and opened the first case file on her desk; a new breakout in Northern Albania. It was an unusual case because Albania hardly ever had magical activity, but it caught Hermione's attention. After reading the summary, Hermione was submerged in her work and didn't surface for another 2 hours. She had gotten through 5 files when a voice surrounded her in her office, the familiar voice of Miranda over the new PA system.

"Ms. Granger, the Head Aurors have arrived. Shall I send them in?"

"Yes, please do – and send in some coffee," she said out loud to no one in particular as she closed the manila folder on her oak desk and placed it to the right of her oversized calendar.

The door flew open and in walked the recognizable face of Kingsley and a very handsome blond haired gentleman. He was dressed in designer robes – who knew that Burberry made robes for wizards and witches, and was quite handsome. He had silver-grey eyes that twinkled merrily with each glance and a character smirk with a very pale complexion making him look washed out. It was his eyes that recalled the familiarity of this person to Hermione. He was Hermione's worst enemy from Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy.

Hermione's high opinion of Draco was as follows: a little cowardly albino ferret to which life deserved not to occupy in his extremely attractive body. Her outlook of him consisted of hate and pure loathing and nothing could possibly change her opinion of him. When Hermione's mind was made up, there was little chance in changing it or hardly any at all.

"Good afternoon Sirs," said Hermione in a polite, but distant voice. It was nothing but business now. She made eye contact with each as she said their name, but silently cringed with Malfoy's.

"Hermione, my dear, do call me Kingsley; as I had previously asked you to do so," said the deep baritone voice of the dark skinned elderly man. Hermione nodded at his comment and responded with a sharp, "I will try, sir." Kingsley acknowledged her remark and continued on: "I would like to present to you Mr. Draco Malfoy. I believe you both went to school together, am I correct?" They nodded. A quick flashback of the Malfoy reunion after the last battle of Harry and Lord Voldemort caused Hermione to shudder at thinking of the changes that Malfoy had undergone.

"Delighted to re-make your acquaintance, Ms. Granger," said the cold harsh, yet somehow gentle voice of the 'beloved' Draco Malfoy. They grasped hands for a little longer than a second, but much shorter than that of mere acquantainces. It took everything in Hermione's power to prevent her from wiping her hands on her robes.

"Pleasure, now why don't we start this meeting, I have quite a number of cases to complete by tonight and a dinner party to attend to."

"Alright," said Kingsley as he got to the point, "Draco, here, is taking my position – you see, I'm retiring next week, hence the party that the minister insisted on throwing this Saturday night. Anyway, the minister wanted me to inform you of him. Oh, and heads up, you and Draco are merging Departments and will now have the same position of power – humph … it's great timing," he said the last bit with every ounce of sarcasm he could muster. "And you will be going out into the field, much more often." She let out a low groan of displeasure.

Fieldwork was for the newbie's and Hermione felt that she had been working for the Ministry long enough to gain the respect of a non-fieldwork opt. She really feared being out there and seeing the scenes and people. She could handle looking at pictures, but not being there because it was much harder for her to erase from her photographic mind.

"Is that all?" Hermione asked impatiently, but not rudely. She was trying hard to get rid of the blonde pollutant in her office. They nodded in agreement. "Oh, I knew all of this except who was to take your place," she said directly to Kingsley. She never once caught eye-contact with Malfoy since their 'introduction'. The boys looked up in surprise. "I have ears you know," she said quietly. She seemed human for almost a moment before standing up briskly. "If that's all, you may leave – like I said earlier, I have much to do." They took their leave and exited the department.

Being an intimidating figure was extremely difficult for Hermione because she was female. Though females were promoted to higher heights in the working field than before, she couldn't help hiding her insecurities with harshness and a cold shoulder; hence the reason few people were close to her. Some blame it on the War and never falling head over heels in love with Ronald Weasley, but Hermione knew otherwise. It was her life and she would live it the way she wanted, for now.

The clock struck 6 o'clock and she had finished ALL her work faithfully and apparated home so she could change for dinner with Harry, Ginny, and whomever could attend. It was sure to be a pleasant evening as soon as she pushed Malfoy out of her mind – a thing that wouldn't come lightly to her troubled mind.

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**Author's Note:** Hello all! This is definitely one of the fastest posts I have ever had before, don't get used to it. I hope you like this chapter, sorry it was kinda short. I'm getting really into this story so there could be more 'quick' posts. Please leave reviews, comments are welcomed and I live for criticism, Constructive criticism that is. Thanks guys! OH, and thank you to my Beta - LadyPeaceGoldenHeart... couldn't do this without you

Love,

swimmer4ev (Rachel)


	3. Chapter 2 Feelings

Chapter 2:

With a loud _pop!_, a young lady dressed in black robes walked down the limestone walkway to her flat. Her stilettos clicked against the stone and her robes trailed behind her with a seeming grace. The dark green door opened with a swish of her long willowy wand and she crossed the thresh-hold with refinement. She ascended the stairs with an amazing speed and knowledge of her whereabouts and went straight into the master bedroom. 

Hermione opened the door to her closet and took out a number of black dresses for that night's events. If one looked in her closet, they would find an unending number of black garments spotted with a few garbs of color. It was after a few minutes in front of the mirror with dresses on the hangers, she put the others away and kept out a charmeuse knee length empire-waist dress with a large gold beaded silk sash across the middle and a pair of opened-toed sling-back pumps about 3 inches in height. 

After a quick shower that caused major steaming of the bathroom and fogging of the mirror, Hermione changed into her dress, re-did her makeup, and fixed her hair so it was in a half-up twist. She looked striking and chic. Her dress accentuated her figure and she looked like a model. She grabbed a small matching clutch and shoved her wand, money and touch-ups in it with haste and with another _pop_, she apparated to the restaurant of Harry and Ginny's choice; Rosebud, where Italy never grows old. 

It was a charming wizarding bistro with a large porch in the back over an enchanted river and candles scattered everywhere; on tables, along the walkways, suspended in the air, &c. White tablecloths covered the solid oak tables along with very expensive looking gold and silver coated china and matching silverware were arranged on the tables sophisticatedly. The chairs were tucked in neatly around each table and everything looked fresh. The maitre d' and waiters were in matching uniforms with their shirts tucked into their tailored pants and their shoes shined and buffed. The restaurant was neat, well kept, and organized, just the way Hermione liked things to be. 

"Hermione!" exclaimed the familiar voice of Harry. 

He was clad in dress robes and had attempted to straighten his hair. He walked over to Hermione with his arm around a red-headed girl's waist. Ginny was dressed in a beautiful gold silk dress which accentuated her body and her features. 

"It's so good to see you! How have you been?" he blabbered. She answered each question politely, but couldn't seem to become excited about seeing her friends.

After answering and asking a few questions to Harry and Ginny's guests; most of them to whom were work colleagues, Hermione graciously excused herself from the dinner table to use the restroom. When she entered, she leaned up against the granite counter-top and looked in the mirror. A single tear ran down her cheek; it was soon followed by several more. The tears were shed for no reason except for that of jealousy and self-pity. It was as if she didn't have a place in Harry and Ginny's world anymore and that sentiment sunk into the bottom of her stomach. She let a few more tears drop down and took a tissue to her already damp cheeks. They were pathetic tears that should not have been shed, especially not in a girl's lavatory, but what happened was final and nothing could change it.

Ashamed of her sudden outburst, Hermione waved her wand so she could reduce all the puffiness and rid her face of the red blush that crept up from out of her chest. With a large burst of adrenaline, she pushed against the door and went back out to face the bleak life outside of the small ornate lady's room.

The crystal chandelier shimmered in the foyer of the restaurant and the wood floor glowed. It was very beautiful and Hermione tried to make the best of her already tedious and repugnant night. Smiling people surrounded her, but their aura didn't seem apparent to her. The brown haired girl's eyes were comatose and dreary, but it was not from overworking – though that was what she claimed, it was because she was immersed in thought. Thought about why she was feeling down, why she broke down crying, how this all happened, &c. 

The evening seemed to lag on for Hermione. The food was excellent of course, but it tasted like dust in her mouth. Something was missing in her life, but what it was, she didn't know. The lights lost their sparkle, laughter began missing its individuality. No one's eyes twinkled with merriness, nothing was extraordinary or unique; all was dull. The atmosphere was, in general, cheerful, but to Hermione, it wasn't.

She sat and smiled like a contented person for the happy couple while sipping her wine. She didn't want them worrying, but couldn't help worrying about herself. The dinner party was celebrating Harry and Ginny's new house and their upbringing of Remus and Tonks's son, Teddy. He had certainly grown. Hermione couldn't help but feel envious of their good fortune and happiness. These new feelings that were suddenly aroused by a small get together were curious and puzzling to her. She had never truly felt these feelings and she didn't like them one bit. 

The clock struck 11 with swiftness that only time can make come. It was then that Hermione noticed the sudden fading of Harry and Ginny's guests; their party of 25 had reduced to 9. She looked for them and found them sitting next to one another with Teddy in between them on the outside porch, stargazing. It was the most picturesque scene; stars twinkling, a young couple with their child, love, romance in the air… anyone else would have said 'How sweet', but Hermione gagged. She bid them goodnight with a kiss on the cheek and a long hug and left the charming restaurant. 

She went home and headed straight to her room to prepare for bed. She changed into her lavender colored satin chemise. She stripped her face of any makeup on it and went directly to bed after she flossed and brushed her teeth (her parent's dentistry practice really rubbed off on her). It was after all these years; Hermione was still unable to lift the memory charm from her parents. It was a devastating loss, but she learned to cope and could only hope that her future children could understand why they didn't have grandparents. They were the ultimate sacrifice.

She fell asleep on her bed, her cheeks tear-stained. They were tears of sorrow and pity for herself and her losses. Though Hermione hated to admit it, she had not fully recovered from the effects of the war. She refused to cry after the deaths of her friends, she wanted to remain strong and considerate. No tears were shed after she lost Remus and Tonks, Fred Weasley, and the others. So much was lost; so many were gone, so little unlived and she was trying to fight it and find her way. It was on this day that her life began to change; for the best of the worst, change was coming and everyone would have to prepare themselves for the nearing future. 


End file.
